Today is National Bike to Work Day! And today I also started housesitting for some friends of my mom, and they generously said "Sure, you can use a bike!" Partner #1 is just a little taller than me and has a much nicer bike than I do, so I was like "Score!" Plus the house is only about a fifteen minute bike ride from work.

. . . Ostensibly.

It took me a little longer than that this morning, I think, for a few reasons.

1. A few inches taller means that a bike that fits her juuuuuuust barely fits me. I guess technically it fits me correctly, since your feet aren't supposed to be able to touch the ground when you're on the right-sized bike, right? GUESS WHO'S FEET CAN'T TOUCH THE GROUND. Mounting a bike that tall is a whole new adventure.

2. I thought the route was pretty well flat; I had forgotten about the big dip halfway along. I also hadn't realized that the sidewalk/trail disappears on the side of the street I was biking on. So I had to get off at the bottom of the dip, run the bike across four lanes, walk it up the rest of the dip, and then try desperately to mount it again.

3. So when I reached the coffeeshop along the way to work, you had best believe I was stopping for coffee and a chocolate croissant. More un-mounting and re-mounting hijinks, but also coffee and chocolate croissant.

It was a nice ride, though -- it's bright and chilly this morning, and there were a ton of bikers out on the streets and sidewalks. And it was nice to use those muscles that I haven't used in a year.

(The ride home was considerably easier. I had better luck with the lights, I think.)

1. In June and July I will be running a summer camp. Terror and excitement.

2. In September my family and I will be walking El Camino de Santiago, a 400 mile pilgrimage across the north of Spain. Terror (in my feet and shoulders; a fifteen-pound backpack is nothing to sneeze at) and excitement (in the rest of me).

3. In October I will be moving to Seattle, where I will be moving in with a good friend of mine from school and then looking for any kind of work I can get. TERROR and EXCITEMENT.

So that's the next few months for me: see-sawing between excitedly making plans and wanting to hide under the covers shaking like a Chihuahua in a thunderstorm.

(1:51:24 AM)Sister: Have you started _A Princess of Mars_ yet?Me: Yes! Boy, that John Carter! He's not scared of anything! "It's a defect in my character, I'm not scared of anything."Sister: Yeah, the intro material is okay. It gets more interesting once he gets to Mars and he's meeting giant four-armed green Martians--Me: And scantily-clad princesses?Sister: --and discovering he can bounce around like a top. A top? A rubber ball.Me: Would that actually work? Mars' gravity is greater than Americ-- wow. Than America? Than Earth.

(1:54:30 AM)Dad: *reading an article about whether Jesus had long hair*' *reads a quote about how in Jewish law, if a man has long hair "it is a shame unto him"*'Dad: *strikes a pose emphasizing his shaved head*'Sister: Does this mean you're shameless?Mom: *absolutely deadpan*' Jim?Dad: I don't want to go to bed anymore, this is getting too entertaining.

(1:59:31 AM)Family: *discussing the plenary indulgence we just received at church*'Sister: Still, it was a nice thing for the Pope to do for Christmas.Dad: Pfff, yeah, like it costs him anything.Sister: It's the thought that counts!Dad: "Hey, Benedict, what'd you get for the Catholics this year?" ". . . Aw, shit."Me: "Scheise!"Dad: "It's Christmas Eve! Everything's closed! Uuuuuuh-- A plenary indulgence for everyone! Now leave me alone!"

I'm glad you recognize that "many people within the transgender community do legitimately suffer discrimination" because of their non-standard gender identity and expression. I'm glad you're paying attention.

I confess it feels a little odd to me to be getting all activist-y up in here. Maybe you can blame the fact that I escorted at Planned Parenthood yesterday and watched a couple dozen people -- those I agreed with and those I didn't -- exercise their right to free speech. (As frustrating and nerve-wracking as it is to deal with the protestors yelling misinformation, stupid advice, and condescending prayers, I'm glad they have the right to do that -- because it means passers-by also have the right to yell at the protesters "What's the matter with you?" and my favorite "You're all loitering!")

So here's my activism for today:

You need to register to vote. If you already are, you need to make sure you know where your polling place is or apply for an absentee ballot. (I'm putting my application in the mail today.) You need to exercise your Constitutional right to vote -- because it's really freaking awesome that you have the right to vote!

And this is an important election, especially for Alaskans. (Check out the Mud Flats' take on the Murkowski-Miller-McAdams stuff.) You can't shrug off midterms -- especially when we've got a president who keeps getting blocked by Congress even when he's part of the majority party, which is for-gosh-sake ridiculous but that's another rant. It's not gonna get better if the Tea Party picks up any seats.*

What really worries me is the possibility of another Prop 8 situation, where everyone says "Oh, nobody's actually going to vote for that crazy candidate/ballot measure" and stays home -- and the crazy candidate's supporters come out in force. They know enough to know that their vote can make a difference; we can hardly do less, can we?

So make sure you get out there and make your voice heard. It's the least -- and the greatest -- thing you can do.

*This section of the post brought to you by talking to one of my sophomore friends the other day. He sheepishly admitted he wasn't registered to vote in PA because he hadn't been old enough to vote in the presidential election of 2008 -- and now two years have gone by, with people out on the Cut hawking voter registration services, and he still hasn't signed up. There are more elections out there than just the ones for presidents!

So I have most of my books sorted, reorganized, and reshelved -- now I'm going through my many notebooks, notepads, and sketchbooks. God I have improved as an artist. Thank god. I have one big purple sketchbook from 2002-03; about halfway through I abruptly got better at proportions, although not a lot better.

Anyway, interesting snippets I've found thus far include a bit of Tom/Carl, a piece that I must have written during my first year at Milliways that involves Henry Fitzroy and Eustace Scrubb playing chess while Nita Callahan and Guinevere offer commentary, my attempt to translate Enya's "Only Time" in Elvish, a comprehensive inventory of my bookshelves (must've been from around 2001 or 2002, since it's in the same pad as the Elvish), and the following unfinished sonnet, dated October 22, 2006:

For life The world is hard; it's ever-changing strife.It wracks and wounds us, disregarding role,Or rhyme, or reason, past or present life,And doesn't mind the stature of the soul.It may be all events effects do have their cause,If viewed from some omniscient, ancient seat,But this gives little comfort when we pauseAnd find the ground swept out from 'neath our feetBut there is solace. There is love that's found.Chaos's fractals burn with lovely fireThe darkest night is in a circle boundWith equal light, to bear igniting sorrow's pyre.

Embarrassingly, in one notebook I have an outline for how Madame Director and I planned to respond to one of our fics being flamed en masse for its horrific Mary Sues, followed by an outline for a new horrible Lord of the Rings Mary Sue (I. Eileena A. Sister of Aragorn 1. 1 year young 2. Kidnapped by Men at 5 a. Woods around Rivendell b. Kidnappers ran away from Elves w/her c. Rangers save her; give her to Denethor OH MY GOD IT BURNS WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME I KNEW BETTER).

(This, in spite of the fact that I said I wouldn't be available after March 15 and the contract goes until March 19. My perky phone solicitation voice and ability to write scripts on the spot PAY OFF.)

As of Feb. 1 I will be a telemarketer Volunteer Recruitment Coordinator for the local branch of the Muscular Dystrophy Association, calling people to ask them to call other people to give us money.

Okay, so yeah, I'll be a telemarketer, but a telemarketer for the greater good. (The greater gooood.) This is . . . this is actually kind of perfect, because I have always believed that everybody should have to spend some time in a crappy service job, and this way I get to serve my time in a crappy service job, but I get to do it in the name of a good cause. Like I said to roomie:

Me: LIL LIL LIL GUESS WHO GOT A JOBRoomie: TOLD YOU!Roomie: YAYAY!Me: *does the Paycheck Dance*Roomie: soon you will realize how soul crashing it is, but know I'm happy for youMe: *snickers*Me: Dude, I'm going to be a telemarketer.Me: I am fully aware of how soul crushing it will be.Me: But I will be a telemarketer for the greater good, so I think I'll come out with good karma.

Now the only thing the universe needs to do is get my sub-letter to sign a lease and my life will be amazing.